


Coping

by Tori_Scribbles



Series: Coping [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Kidnapping, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rewrite, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tori_Scribbles/pseuds/Tori_Scribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kidnapped by Hydra. Saved by the Avengers. Darcy isn’t coping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this years ago and posted it, but I recently re read it and realised how terrible it was so I rewrote it and here it is. I'm working on rewriting the sequel so bare with me, it'll be here soon.
> 
>  
> 
> **Check the tags for Trigger Warnings**

It was cold.

Way below zero.

That was the first thing that Darcy noticed as she regained consciousness.

The second thing was that although she opened her eyes, she could not see a thing. The room she was in was pitch black.

The third, was that her wrists and ankles were shackled to a freezing metal chair. Her jacket, shoes, socks, scarf and jeans had all been stripped, so she sat in nothing but a tank top and panties. Which, she noted, was seriously not helping the cold issue.

There was a steady thumping in the back of her skull as if someone had taken a baseball bat to the back of her head.

Darcy scrunched up her face as she tried to remember what had happened.

She was walking down the street in Manhattan, carrying a bag of ridiculously unhealthy food from that pastry shop that Jane liked back towards the tower, she was only a block away when a blag was pulled over her head, the food knocked from her hands and what felt, and sounded, like the butt of a gun hitting the back of her head; hard.

Natasha’s face popped into Darcy’s head, a story she and Clint had told her about a mission gone bad that had gotten them kidnapped.

She said she’d count the seconds, try and remember them. It would help keep her mind focussed on something else, plus it would keep a rough track of time.

 _Counting._ Darcy thought, trying not to panic. _I can do that._

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…_

She almost reached two hundred when the door was pulled open with a creaking of the hinges.

Darcy’s eyes snapped shut at the harsh light flooding in from outside, slowly she opened her eyes, letting it adjust to the new lighting as electricity buzzed and several lights flickered on overhead.

A tall man stepped into the doorway, he looked around 6 foot, maybe less, strong build but there was no distinguishing features. He looked like a perfectly ordinary guy.

The man took three strides into the room, stopping just in front of her, he just stood there, his arms are folded across his chest tightly, but he didn’t move, just stared down at me.

Taking a chance she glanced around the room.

It was a small concrete cell, no windows, one door, a tattered single mattress on the floor with a scratty blanket, there was a toilet and a sink and a single security camera in the corner.

The door slammed shut and her head snapped back up to the man, my eyes drifting to his sleeve, the familiar red skull stitched into the shoulder.

“Aw shit,” She groaned.

“You’re awake I see,” He sneered, she bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to stay quiet. His accent was similar to Natasha’s when she got angry, so he was Russian. “Let’s just make some things clear, you will be free to leave as soon as you give _truthful_ answers to _all_ of my questions. Do you understand?” He asked, Darcy didn’t reply. “Excellent! Shall we begin then?”

.

All Darcy could do was groan feebly in pain as the guy threw her down onto the old mattress, she spat out a mouthful of blood, glaring as he left the room, the door slamming behind him.

Darcy looked down at herself, trying to assess the damage.

Blood was dripping off her hands from the various precise cuts across both of her arms, dried blood stick to her legs, torso and face.

Her tank top had been gone within the first three days, torn to shreds by her knife happy captor, now she was stuck with just her sports bra.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders tightly, ignoring the stinging of the wounds, she curled in on herself, trying to contain as much heat as possible.

Reaching out with shaking hands she curled her fingers around the jagged piece of metal she’d found under the mattress on her first night, she scraped another line onto the concrete floor.

Thirty five.

Thirty five tally marks carved into the floor.

Thirty five days.

Four weeks.

One month.

She was getting weaker, she’d lost a hell of a lot of blood, eaten what little scraps they’d given her and the only time she was allowed to sleep was when she was unconscious, which didn’t really count.

Laying her head against the wall, she stared up at the door; waiting.

That was the first visit of the day, meaning she had four hours until he returned with a new list of questions about the Avengers Initiative and the new S.H.I.E.L.D.

Part of Darcy was proud, she’d refused to give them any important information about her friends.

She’d told them that Bucky and Natasha were both back with the Avengers.

She’d told them everybody’s coffee and pastry order.

But nothing important.

How she had managed to withhold so much information she didn’t know, she didn’t care. She just had.

_They’re looking for you. They’re looking for you._

She repeated it like a mantra, over and over in her head now, just as she had done for the past month, refusing to admit that her chances of getting out of here alive were getting slimmer and slimmer.

The door opened again and she sat up straighter, pushing the blanket off of her shoulders, letting him drag her to the chair, the shackles automatically snapping closed.

It was pointless to put up a fight.

It just made everything worse.

She learnt that on her first day.

Something was different this time.

The guy was carrying a side arm.

Every time he’d entered her cell he’d have knives, hot irons, electronic machines and everything in between.

But never once had he had a gun.

 _Are they going to finally going to put me out of my misery? Shoot me, and mail my body back to the Tower like they’d threatened to?_ She mused, slightly hopefuly.

“Now Miss Lewis,” The guy started. “What is the security code for Tony Stark’s lab?”

“I don’t know,” She said, looking up at him.

It was true, she didn’t need to learn security codes, Jarvis ran everything.

The guy tutted softly, drawing his knife. He twirled it between his fingers before plunging it straight into her thigh.

She gave a small cry of pain, pressing her teeth into her lip, she glared up at him.

“Everything’s automatic. I don’t know!” She cried.

“Where is S.H.I.E.L.D’s new headquarters?” He asked.

“It’s classified. Only S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents know!” She lied, gritting her teeth as he roughly yanked the knife out of her leg, pressing it straight into her side, just above her left hip despite her scream.

“Where is the new S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters?” He repeated.

“I don’t know!” She sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Darcy screamed as the knife was pulled out and thrust just below her collar bone.

“The next one is a bullet,” He spat, drawing his sidearm, pressing it against her shoulder, her vision starting to blur with blood loss.

“Where is Nick Fury?” He asked. Darcy didn’t reply, already slipping into unconsciousness.

A deep slice to her right cheek startled her awake, he pressed the gun further into her shoulder threateningly.

The ground shuddered as an explosion crashed through the building.

Mr Hydra’s eyes widened in horror, spinning around, his gun raised as the door was blown back off of its hinges.

With the last little bit of energy she had left Darcy forced herself to look up, watching Mr Hydra get thrown through the air, crashing into the wall, denting the concrete before crumpling to the floor.

Never had Darcy been more grateful to see Thor.

“Lady Darcy,” He murmured with the hint of a smile before turning to the door. “She’s here. Get Banner!” He yelled.

Clint darted into the room, telling Thor that Cap needed back up before rushing to Darcy’s side, quickly assessing the damage.

“Darcy, you need to stay awake,” He said, pressing he hand against her non cut cheek, smiling as her eyes opened blearily.

“Clin’?” She murmured.

“Yeah, it’s me,” He said, forcing the cuffs open with a knife as Bruce ran in with a bag, his eyes widening in horror at the site of the intern as he knelt next to her.

“Darcy, can you hear me?” He asked, pressing a gauze against her collar bone, taping it inplace.

“Mmm, hey Bruce,” She said, her words slurred together.

“Three stab wounds, left collar bone, left side, right thigh. Cut to the right cheek, all fresh,” Clint summarised.

Bruce’s eyes scanned the cell, the puddles of dry blood on the floor and on the mattress.

“We need to get her outta here; now!” Bruce snapped, as he inspected her side, pressing a temporary gauze against it as Clint wrapped her thigh, before carefully scooping her out of the chair, only for her to cry out in pain. “Hang on, here.” Bruce pushed a needle into the crook of her elbow, watching as her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against Clint.

He checked her pulse before nodding for them to move.

Clint rushed through the building as fast as he could, trying not to jog her unconscious girl in his arms, Bruce right behind him.

 _“Building secure,”_ Natasha reported in their ears.

“We have Darcy. Get back to the jets,” Clint replied, kicking open the roof door. “Bus or Quinjet?”

“Quinjet is faster,” Bruce said and Clint nodded, jogging up the ramp, laying her down on the stretcher, brushing her mangled hair away from her face before turning back to the pilots chair as Natasha, Steve and Bucky walked up the ramp.

“Wheels up,” He said sharply as Bruce pressed an IV into the back of her hand, attaching it to a drip, Natasha moving swiftly to his side to help.

“Keep this plane as steady as possible,” Bruce ordered, digging through his bag again.

The journey back to New York was almost silent, just occasionally Bruce giving Natasha instructions and the constant beep of a heart rate.

“Coming in to land,” Clint announced, hovering over the Tower, turning in mid-air he touched down as smoothly as possible.

Before helplessly following as Natasha pushed the stretcher off the plane as Bruce barked orders at the waiting medical team.

Two hours and fifty three minutes.

Tony, Thor, Sam and Coulson’s team had all got back and joined the rest of the team in waiting impatiently in the corridor outside medical.

Jane paced up and down the corridor, tears silently streaming down her face.

Everybody else either sat or stood in tense silence.

The door finally opened and they all rose to their feet and Jane came to a stop as Bruce stepped out.

“Is she okay?” She asked with wide, panic filled eyes.

“She’s going to be fine.” He nodded, waiting as everybody let out a collective sigh of relief. “The knife clipped her appendix, we had to remove it, and the other wound shredded several nerves in her shoulder. All wounds have been stitched up, she’s got a couple of broken ribs, a chipped jaw. She’s pretty lucky.

“We’ve given her a blood transfusion, setting her up on a drip. She’s dehydrated and severely malnourished. She’s still sedated at the minute, it’s best to let it wear off naturally,” Bruce explained, leaning against the wall tiredly.

“But she’s going to be okay?” Pepper clarified, clutching Tony’s hand tightly.

“She’ll be fine, just a little more scarred.” Bruce nodded again.

“I need to call Fitz-Simmons and everyone back at base,” May said quietly, stepping out into the stairwell.

“Can we see her?” Jane asked eagerly, wiping her tears away.

Bruce nodded, pushing the door open and stepping back as everybody but Bucky rushed into the room.

He stood in the doorway for a minute, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, satisfied that she was stable he headed towards the gym.

She was going to be okay… Physically at least.

-

\--

-

Darcy didn’t wake up after the sedative had worn off, which Bruce assured everybody was perfectly normal, the twenty four year old was drained, both mentally and physically.

It wasn’t until almost four am, three days after the rescue mission when her heartbeat spiked.

She stirred slightly, thrashing her head from side to side before she shot up in bed with a scream.

The door banged open and Natasha burst in, her gun in hand, assessing the situation as Jarvis raised the lights.

“Darcy!” She called, shoving her gun back in her boot. The younger girls head whipped around, staring wide eyed at the assassin who held up her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re in the tower. You’re safe,” She said stepping closer.

“You found me,” Darcy breathed in disbelief.

“We’re sorry it took so long,” Natasha said in a soft voice. “Jarvis, can you get Bruce please?”

 _“He’s already on his way, Agent Romanoff,”_ The AI said.

Natasha sat gently on the edge of Darcy’s bed, slowly coaxing her to lay back down, her fingers combing through her greasy hair.

Bruce came in less than a minute later, looking as though he’d just rolled out of bed, rushing straight to Darcy’s bedside, checking her vitals.

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” Darcy shrugged. “You’ll need to stay here for a few more day, just to let your leg heal properly before you walk around, but you should be good to go in about three days.” Darcy just nodded. “Try and get some rest. I’ll let the others know you’re awake in the morning, no doubt you’ll have some visitors,” He said, waiting for Darcy to reply but she didn’t, Bruce sighed, exchanging a quick glance with Natasha he left.

“I told them that you and Bucky are here,” Darcy finally said, her voice wavering. “They know who lives in the tower too.”

“Do they know anything else?” Natasha asked, keeping her voice smooth.

“Your coffee orders,” Darcy sniffed. “I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t tell them about Bucky’s new arm, or the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, or Agents or security or anything, I promise!” She rambled hysterically, tears running down her cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Natasha hushed her softly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is! I told them stuff! I was too weak to stop them!” Darcy sobbed, hardly aware as Natasha wrapped her arms around her.

“Listen to me Darcy. You are not weak! If you were weak they’d have killed you straight away.” She said, holding her tightly. “You did so well.”

Natasha continued to murmur soft comforts to her until Darcy’s harsh sobs were nothing but soft hiccups.

“I’m so cold,” Darcy whimpered, pulling the quilt closer to her.

“Hold on,” Natasha said, moving to the cupboard at the end of the bed, pulling out several blankets, wrapping them around the younger girl tightly.

 _“I have raised the thermostat.”_ Jarvis informed before Natasha could ask, as she lay back down next to Darcy.

“Skye hacked all their systems, any intel they have is gone. They didn’t get anything,” Natasha promised. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Darcy didn’t reply, just curled against the assassin, still shivering slightly until exhaustion took over.

As soon as Darcy’s breathing evened out, Natasha carefully slid out of the bed and took the elevator down to Clint and her apartment, sliding into bed against him, her hand unconsciously raised itself above her head as she settled down for the few hours’ sleep she could get.

-

\--

-

Darcy bolted up in bed, gasping for breath, her eyes darting around in panic.

 _“Miss Lewis, are you alright?”_ The familiar voice of the AI snapped her back into reality.

“I’m fine, Jarvis,” She said hesitantly, pulling the blankets tighter around her shoulders, slowly settled back against the pillows, her eyes wide, staring blankly at the ceiling, visions of the past month taunting her.

That was how the next week passed.

Memories haunting her whether she was awake or asleep. She was hypersensitive to loud noises and people touch, not to mention the panic attacks and the overwhelming feeling that this was all a dream, and that any minute now she’d wake up back in her cell.

Bruce finally decided that she was okay to leave medical, so she did, wrapping her blankets securely around her shoulders she limped to the elevator and into her room.

Pushing open the door, she hesitantly stepped inside.

It was exactly how she’d left it over a month ago.

Her make-up carelessly tossed across the dressing table, clothes hanging out of the drawers, a towel crumpled on the floor and the bed unmade.

Darcy stared at the room for a full minute before lurching forward. She got Jarvis to raise the temperature and got to work.

She stripped the bed, pulling on clean covers, scooping up all the laundry putting it in the chute, she reorganised her dressing table before emptying her entire wardrobe onto the floor and rearranging it. She didn’t stop until the entire room was spotless, not a thing out of place.

When she finally deemed everything perfect she pulled herself into the shower, scrubbing at her skin until it was raw. The hot water, burnt her skin but she hardly noticed, pain was something she could deal with.

She stood there for nearly two hours before she dragged herself out, she dried herself off and stepped up in front of the full length mirror.

Her eyes combed over herself slowly.

Ugly scars littered her body, several of which probably would never fade all that much, she carefully pressed her fingers to her cheek, knowing that she wouldn’t ever be able to cover that up properly.

Marching back into the bathroom, she snatched up a pair of scissors and carefully combed out her hair before re-cutting her bangs, so they fell over her eye, covering her healing cheek.

Satisfied with her work, she cleaned up and went to pull on some underwear, she settled on wearing baggy t-shirt, Clint’s old purple hoodie that she stole months ago and some light sweat pants, before dropping down onto her bed.

The mattress was way too soft, after a hard hospital bed and a crappy old mattress this felt like a bed of feathers.

With a sigh she pulled her StarkPad out of the nightstand flicking through several online shops, ordering lots of long sleeved shirts and sweaters to cover her arms and shoulders.

Satisfied with her new wardrobe, she dropped her tablet down next to her and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

Darcy, who could never sit still for five seconds, laid in the same position for the next three hours, until a soft knock on the door, had her bolting upright.

“W-who is it?” She called out hesitantly, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“It’s Jane. Dinner’s ready, Clint cooked,” Jane said.

Darcy pulled herself off of the bed, shoving her hands in her pocket she pulled open the door, watching as Jane smiled.

“Your hair looks nice,” She said.

“Thanks,” Darcy mumbled, nervously running her fingers through it. Slightly self-conscious she buried her hands in her sleeves she followed Jane up to the busy dining room.

Darcy hesitated by the elevator as she stared across the busy Common Room at the loud dining area, forcing herself to take a deep breath she slid into the seat between Jane and Natasha, where Clint normally sat.

“Nice hoodie,” He commented with a wink, setting a plate in front of her before sitting in her usual seat next to Steve opposite. She forced a smile and started picking at her lasagne, her favourite.

That was how the next three weeks passed.

Everybody was trying not to tread on eggshells, but they still were.

Tony cut off half way through telling Bruce about his time in Afghanistan when Darcy walked into the room.

Clint and Nat came back from a mission and where they’d usually tell everyone what happened, all they said this time was “Five Hydra Agents dead, mission completed.”

Darcy was different.

Anybody could see it.

For the first week she’d hardly talk to anybody, she was cold, not because she was angry at them, she just shut down, isolating herself. 

The bright smile and mischievous glint in her eye were gone and nobody could remember the last time she laughed or made a comment about her iPod.

Now Darcy wandered aimlessly through the rooms, walking just for the hell of it. Because it was one of those days were if she sat still for five minutes she felt as if she was going to go insane.

A loud crash echoed through the building as the tower shuddered.

Darcy made a strangled noise.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t focus.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her ears were ringing as she staggered backwards into the corner, sliding down the wall.

Hardly hearing someone calling her name as somebody crouched in front of her.

“Darcy! Darcy, you need to breathe. Listen to me, you’re going to be okay.” She flinched as the person took her hands, tugging them so they were pressed against the person’s chest, feeling the steady beat of their heart.

“Breathe when I breathe, okay?” They took a deep exaggerated breath in and Darcy tried top copy, only to choke on a sob as she exhaled. “That’s good, and again?” They said. Darcy complied, repeating the process until the world started to come back into focus and her breathed settled.

Bucky was kneeling in front of her, studying her carefully. He let go of her hands, his non-metal hand resting on her own, steadying her as she shakily stood.

“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, pulling her sleeves over her hands, wrapping her arms around herself.

“That happen a lot?” He asked.

Darcy didn’t answer, her gaze lingering on the floor, answering the question for her.

“I’ve gotta go,” She said suddenly. “Jane er – needs me in the labs.” Before he could say anything she all but ran out of the room.

Bucky watched her go before walking through into the kitchen where Steve was sitting at the breakfast bar with Clint.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, taking in the expression on his best friends face.

“Darcy just had a panic attack,” Bucky said, leaning his forearms against the counter.

“She alright?” Clint asked, concern clear in his voice.

“She ran off, ‘soon as she got her bearings. Said she supposed to meet Jane.” Bucky shrugged slightly. “She ain’t coping, is she?”

Steve shook his head.

“I hear her walking around most nights, at around three, sometimes earlier,” He said. “She wasn’t ever trained for this like we were.”

“She almost gave herself alcohol poisoning working her way through Tony’s bar the other day,” Clint said softly.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey guys.”

They all looked up as Jane walked in, opening the cupboard, pulling out a bar of chocolate.

 

 

“Darcy not with you?” Clint asked.

“No.” Jane shook her head, looking up at him in confusion. “It’s her day off.”

“Told you so,” Bucky muttered and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Jerk.”

.

_Mr Hydra ran his finger across Darcy’s cheek before slapping her sharply._

_“Don’t play games with me, bitch!”_

_The knife came down again, cutting deeply across her arm._

_“I don’t know anything. Please! Stop!” She cried. “I’m just an intern. I don’t have clearance to know anything important!”_

_Mr Hydra ignored her pleas and cut several more scarring gashes across her thighs._

_“Stop!”_

Darcy screamed, bolting upright in bed, breathing heavily.

Not bothering to pull sweat pants over her shorts she pulled on a sports bra and a t-shirt and a pair of trainers making her way down to the gym.

Turning the thermostat right down, she taped her hands how she’d seen Natasha tape hers, before moving over to the punch bag.

-

\--

-

Bucky leant against the door, watching Darcy throw uncoordinated punch after punch at the bag and he couldn’t help but cringe slightly.

_If she doesn’t straighten her wrist, it was going to be sore tomorrow._

He stepped silently across the gym, stopping just behind her.

“What did that bag ever do to you?” He asked. She jumped nearly a foot in the air.

“Fuck, Bucky!” She gasped, glaring at him, she took two deep breaths before turning back to the bag.

“Sorry.” He shrugged sheepishly, moving opposite her, holding the bag steady. After a moment he grabbed her hand, ignoring her flinch and straightening her wrist, tucking her fingers in tighter. “Keep the tension here, and your shoulders square, put your full weight behind each punch,” He instructed, moving her shoulders, nudging her feet into a better position with his foot, before leaning back against the bag, nodding for her to continue.

She threw another punch, smiling slightly at the difference.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” He asked casually, she scoffed slightly.

“I was asleep,” She corrected.

“Nightmare?” He asked, she didn’t respond, just threw a particularly hard punch. “Nightmares, panic attacks, you flinch when people touch you and now you’re trying to beat the crap out of a punch bag,” He listed. Darcy didn’t respond for a moment.

“I need to be strong enough to fight back,” She said after a minute. “If something like that happens again. I need to be able to at least have a chance. Maybe they’ll realise I’m more trouble than I’m worth and just put a bullet between my eyes.”

“You wanna protect yourself, you’re not going to do it like this,” He said bluntly, ignoring her glare. “You need to learn to fight properly.”

“Are you offering to teach me? Because I think I drove five of my college Professors insane,” She said, hesitantly looking up at him.

“You can’t be worse than Steve.” He shrugged. “If I say jump though, you say how high. Got it?” He looked at her expectantly and she nodded.

“Okay,” She replied softly. He gave a small nod.

Knowing that neither of them would get anymore sleep tonight, they moved to the mats and he started to teach her the basics.

And that was what Natasha found when she came in for her morning workout at six.

“Come on. Again,” Bucky ordered, Darcy rolled her eyes at his bossiness but complied.

Bucky folded his arms with a smirk, watching her kick the bag hard enough for it to swing on its chains.

Natasha raised an impressed eyebrow.

 

“Not bad,” She commented.

Darcy glanced round at her.

“But we can’t all be as good as the famous Black Widow,” She teased, Natasha laughed slightly as Bucky grinned, just for a second the old Darcy was there again.

“The others are mostly up. Pepper’s making breakfast in about an hour. So you might wanna hit the showers. ‘Cos you both stink,” Nat said. Darcy looked up at Bucky who nodded.

“That’s enough for now,” He said, helping her unwind the tape from her hands, tossing it down the sterile chute.

Sending a mock salute to the two former Russian assassins Darcy walked to the elevator and back up to her room, where she took a shower and started getting ready for the day.

“So, you’re training Darcy now?” Natasha asked, pulling herself up on the parallel bars, starting her pull ups.

“She wants to be able to protect herself.” He shrugged.

“She seemed happy in here,” Tasha observed.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” He said, starting his own workout

“It’ll be good for her,” She said decisively after a few minutes. Bucky rolled his eyes slightly.

“I know.”

.

Training became a daily thing for Darcy, she was becoming stronger and was picking up everything Bucky taught her with fast determination.

Most of the time they trained in silence, only speaking when he gave her a direction or suggesting different techniques. But sometimes they talked, about Hydra, the War and sometimes Darcy’s time with Hydra.

Slowly she started to open up again. She started to smile a little more and she even threatened Tony with her Taser.

She still had her bad days of course, and on those days everyone seemed to notice how she drifted almost unconsciously towards Bucky, on those day’s he’d offer to go to the gym, some days she’d agree and they’d spend the entire day in there, and Bucky would have to remind her to take breaks, one time he actually had to carry her out of the gym, dumping her on the couch.

But other days she’d just sit on the couch close to Bucky, her legs stretched out slightly, not quite touching him, but pretty close. If he moved to the kitchen or any other room, she’d drift after him a minute later.

He didn’t seem to mind, and if he did, he never said anything. Occasionally he’d sling his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers resting on her shoulder, or in her hair when she was feeling particularly jumpy.

_._

_“Agent May is requesting landing for the Bus,”_ Jarvis announced, late Monday morning.

“Permission granted,” Tony said absently, with a slight wave of his hand, walking towards the window where the platform pieced together and May landed perfectly.

Everybody followed him over to the windows, watching as Coulson led his team across the balcony and inside where one team greeted the other.

Darcy held back slightly, hiding behind two super-soldiers and Sam,

“Darcy, it’s good to see you,” Coulson said, keeping his distance though.

“Likewise,” She replied with a small smile, shifting closer to Bucky.

“We brought you a present,” Skye said brightly as Simmons held up a black case.

“We recalibrated the er—the – the err –” Fitz broke off, waving his hands slightly as he couldn’t find the right word.

“Electronics,” Simmons supplied.

“Yes, and changed the dosage slightly, it’s got more bullets and now it will work erm – er.”

“Perfectly,” Simmons said with a grin

“Erm, thanks?” Darcy said hesitantly, following Phil over to the bar where he lay down the case and flipped it open.

Inside was a silver gun with a strange electric blue magazine.

“It’s an Icer,” Phil said.

“Night-night gun,” Fitz muttered.

“Considering Tasers are illegal in New York, this is S.H.I.E.L.D. issue so you can carry it anywhere, plus it’s a more effective, non-lethal method,” Phil explained.

“Thank you,” She breathed with a soft smile, running her finger along the barrel.

“Great, now I have to teach you to shoot,” Bucky teased with a faux sigh.

“I can assure you, I am an excellent shot. Isn’t that right Thor?”

Thor chuckled. “Indeed, Darcy is an excellent shot.” He nodded and Darcy giggled slightly at the memory and then froze as she realized what she’d done.

She hadn’t laughed since before Hydra.

“That’s a nice sound,” Pepper said softly and Darcy smiled slightly.

“It makes a change, yeah,” She replied her voice low as she sunk back into herself.

Coulson and his team decided on staying for the night, so it was no surprise when May came into the gym half way through Darcy and Bucky’s training session the next morning.

Her eyes flickered from Bucky for a second at the sound of the door opening and in that split second she was pinned down with her face pressed into the mat.

“Tasha would yell at you if she saw that!” Clint called out from his nest.

“Because from here, I could kill you four different ways without a weapon,” Bucky said, pressing slightly firmer into her arm so it was twisted up her back.

“Alright, sorry,” Darcy groaned.

Bucky let her up and she grabbed his metal arm and pulled herself up to her feet.

“Again,” He said. Darcy rolled her eyes but took her position opposite.

“Barton get your ass down here!” Bucky called after a while.

“What for?”

“Sparring with the same person every time gets pointless, she needs to spar with someone different,” Bucky said.

Clint seemed to consider this for a second before flipping out of his nest, hitting the floor surprisingly silently.

“Why not get the Cavalry to step in?” He asked, gesturing to May who was doing Thai Chi.

“Don’t call me that, Barton,” May snapped through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Ma’am,” He said with a mock salute.

May rolled her eyes.

“Come on then Lewis. Do your worst,” Clint said, stepping into position.

Darcy glanced up at Bucky, slightly unsure, but with his reassuring nod she took her own position.

As they sparred Clint was pretty impressed with how well she was able to keep up.

Until he grabbed her arm, about to twist her around when she froze, her eyes widened in fear and her breathing stuttered, trying to yank her arm away. He let go instantly and reached out to catch her as her knees buckled.

Images rolled through her head, Mr Hydra grabbing her arm in the exact same place, dragging her to the chair.

“Darcy!”

“Lewis, snap out of it!”

Darcy jolted back to reality to see Bucky and Clint both crouched in front of her, May stood not far behind them.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” She gasped, scrambling backwards, reaching for her hoodie.

“We’re not done yet,” Bucky said, stepping towards her.

“I can’t, not now,” She said, rubbing her arm.

“Now,” Bucky ordered, snatching her hoodie out of her hands, tossing it to Clint, he grabbed her shoulders, steering her back to the punch bag.

“You’re pissed. At Hydra, at me, at yourself. This is how you let it out, hidin’ in your room ain’t gonna do nothing,” He told her.

Darcy’s glare shifted from him to the bag, and she gave it a weak punch. Gradually her punches grew stronger and Bucky let go, stepping round to hold the bag steady.

Clint gave a low whistle.

All of the anger she’d kept to herself over the past few months suddenly seemed to rise inside of her and the bag paid the price.

She stopped suddenly, as if she realising what she was doing and rested her head against the bag as she took several deep breaths, and Bucky didn’t comment as she wiped a couple of stray tears away.

“You good?” Bucky asked.

“No –” She turned to Clint. “Wanna go again?”

He didn’t reply, just stepped onto the mat, she stepped up opposite him and threw the first punch.

Bucky watched as they fought. The change in Darcy was noticeable, her punches and kicks were harder before, they hit their target with more accuracy and unpredictability.

Clint swung a punch that she ducked easily, darting under his arm behind him and seeing her chance. She snaked her arm around his neck her hands poised as Bucky had taught her to snap someone’s neck.

Clint froze.

After a beat her hands dropped and she turned to Bucky.

“Now I’m good,” She snapped, snatching her hoodie off the floor and headed back to her apartment, this time nobody stopped her.

Darcy took an extra-long shower, taking her time as she washed her hair, when she climbed out she took time brushing, drying and curling it, before dressing in a pair of jeans and a checked shirt. She actually sat and made an effort, carefully applying her makeup with slow precise hands.

With her boots in hand, she wandered up to the main kitchen, looking through the cupboards.

With a satisfied hum she tossed her boots next to the counter and started to pull out ingredients.

“Hey.”

Darcy glanced up from stirring the cookie dough as Sam came in.

“Hey,” She replied with a smile.

“Oooh, brownies,” He said, reaching out to the tray only to get his hand slapped away.

“Yes Mom,” He muttered, Darcy rolled her eyes.

“There are muffins under there though,” She said, nodding to a silver tray that had a lid over.

“Oooh.” He lifted off the lid and grabbed a triple chocolate muffin. “Muffins, cookies and brownies. What else can you cook?” He asked through a large mouthful of warm muffin.

“Most things.” Darcy shrugged, rolling the cookie dough out on a pizza tray, before sliding it into the oven and setting a timer.

“Who said cookies?” Clint asked, dropping down from the vent to perch on top of the refrigerator.

“Cookie Pizza in the oven,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes as Clint dropped down, pressing his nose against the oven door as she started to clear up.

“So, what’s with the sudden bakery?” Sam asked.

“Haven’t cooked in a while, felt like it,” She shrugged, grabbing a plain chocolate chip muffin, peeling the paper case back as she slid onto a bar stool.

“Who’s cooking?” Tripp asked, strolling into the kitchen, his arm around Skye. Darcy raised her hand.

Within ten minutes the kitchen filled up as everybody was making grabs for muffins and brownies, even Tony, Jane, Bruce and Fitz-Simmons had dragged themselves out of the labs.

“Everybody move!” Darcy shouted, pushing Steve aside as the timer went off.

She pulled open the oven door and pulled the tray out of the oven, tossing it on top of the counter.

“Why are we eating brownies at 9am?” Bruce asked thoughtfully.

“Why not?” Fitz shrugged.

“The actual question is why there is no coffee?” Darcy asked, looking longingly at the coffee machine the other side of the kitchen.

Natasha rolled her eyes, flicking the switch and Darcy made a satisfied noise when the lights came on.

“We’re having a movie night tonight,” Tony decided. “No excuses, everyone has to be there.” His eyes flickered to Darcy who had opted out of the last five, but she shrugged.

“I’m in,” She said.

The rest of the day was quiet.

Jarvis locked the labs and the gym, refusing to unlock them for anything short of the end of the world, so everyone was mostly hanging around the Common Room, doing nothing constructive.

Pepper took the afternoon off per Tony’s request, and the movie night turned more into a movie afternoon, so far they’d gotten through Mulan and Shrek.

“So Darcy.” Natasha twisted round slightly. “I heard you pinned Clint earlier,” She said with a gleam in her eye.

“I – err – I was really pissed off?” Darcy said sheepishly.

“It was awesome!” Clint exclaimed brightly. “She’s getting pretty good.” Darcy ducked her head at the sudden praise, heat flooding her cheeks.

“Not really,” She mumbled.

“The difference though, Clint has been training since he was sixteen, you’ve only been training for a few months,” Natasha said.

“Though you have been in the gym practically all day every day,” Clint pointed out.

“Jarvis play the movie!” Darcy said, sinking into Bucky’s side as the lights dimmed and the movie started.

“You did good,” Bucky said, slinging his metal arm around her loosely.

Darcy smiled proudly.

“Yeah, yeah I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this is better than it was before, it's slightly longer.  
> All mistakes are my own, if you see any let me know and I'll fix them.
> 
> Let me know what you think?


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